Tag: Christopher Wheeldon / Morphoses

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Sunday Perusing

If you’re having a lazy Sunday afternoon, here’s some reading. Some of these links are a bit old; you may have read them already:

Joan Acocella on San Francisco Ballet (she likes at least two of the same dancers as I, and gives a good overview on the company and reasoning behind its repertoire);

Robert Gottlieb reviews a new book on Balanchine by Nancy Goldner (whose writing sounds comfortably accessible, almost bloggy!) in the NY Review of Books;

Apollinaire Scherr on how to view a Wheeldon ballet, and suggestions for Wheeldon’s future in this troubled economy;

James Wolcott, in his usual hilariously hyperbolical manner, recounts his experience with ABT’s new ballet Citizen;

Alex Ross explains what went wrong between the original Doctor Atomic and the Met’s version of the opera;

Claudia La Rocco laments Gerard Mortier’s decision not to take on the directorship of New York City Opera and wonders what will happen with the planned Brokeback Mountain opera (which I was really looking forward to);

Counter Critic reflects on the passage of Proposition 8 in California.

Happy Sunday, everyone. I’m off to cover my first dance class for Explore Dance. First, meaning, I’ve never written formally about a dance class before… Please wish me luck!

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Of Pretzels and Pashminas

“When, in today’s ballet, you see a man express his feelings for his lady by hurling her into the air, catching her upside down, and wrapping her around his neck like a pashmina, you are seeing the legacy of the Bolshoi.”

— this from Joan Acocella in her latest New Yorker article, analyzing Morphoses (whose NY season just wrapped up) and trying to place Christopher Wheeldon in the pantheon of choreographers.

I burst out laughing when I read this quote because that’s a perfect (albeit hyperbolized) description of my favorite partnering moves in my favorite of all dance scenes, the balcony pas de deux from Kenneth MacMillan’s Romeo and Juliet — the scene that made me fall in love with ballet. (See Julio Bocca and Alessandra Ferri go at it here.) Acocella says MacMillan is a disciple of the Bolshoi style with its sweeping expressivity, its Romanticism, its high-theater dramatics.

But:

When, on the other hand, you see a woman in a leotard merely hold the man’s hand as she flashes her legs out in eighty-two fabulous, clean ballet steps, and then, in a change of heart, fall into his arms and do something hair-raisingly sexy, like a front-facing split, you are seeing a child of “Agon.”

“Agon” being one of George Balanchine’s masterpieces, Balanchine style being the antithesis of Bolshoi / MacMillan (aka “the pashmina”).

Acocella goes on to say Wheeldon’s choreography contains a bit of both styles. I hadn’t really seen that though. I saw him as more a follower of Balanchine with everything abstract, subtle, understated, and focused on steps, on movement rather than on creating character or bringing about an emotional response in the audience. Which is probably why I’m not an enormous fan of Wheeldon, though I do value seeing his work from time to time. On the other hand, I can’t imagine ever tiring of a pashmina.

The article is very interesting, as all of Acocella’s writings are. She always makes me see something I hadn’t before, makes me reconsider, want to see a piece again. Here, she finds in some of Wheeldon’s original, intricate partnering (which people have, aptly I think, referred to as pretzel pas de deux) something actually rather unsettling, even sinister in a way. I hadn’t thought of those twisty, undefined shapes that his dancers make with each other that way before. I always spent my time at a Wheeldon dance playing the inkblot test, trying desperately to figure out what exactly the odd, contorted shapes evoke. But maybe they’re not meant to evoke a specific image at all, yet still charge you with feeling, the same as a pashmina but in a less over-the-top way, without the drama. I will look at the partnering in his ballets anew now. (I couldn’t find a video of such a pdd, but here’s a Wheeldon sampling for comparison to the MacMillan.)

In any event, I dearly hope Mr. Ratmansky brings some of the Bolshoi with him to ABT. And I hope Mr. Wheeldon can let loose some more of his inner pashmina 😀 What is life without passion?…

Seriously, here is the full Acocella.

And, while on the subject of the New Yorker, for people interested in books and art and the artistic life and all, here is an interesting article by Malcolm Gladwell, on the different types of artistic genius and how each is cultivated, which I think could just as easily be titled, “Why This Country Will Never Produce a Cezanne”… Interestingly, Gladwell seems to locate young novelist Jonathan Safran Foer’s genius in the fact that he was a “best-seller” in his twenties rather than the critical acclaim he received. We’re so accustomed to equating success with money in this country, which is part of Gladwell’s point about the Cezanne issue.

Oh, one last thing: I’d written earlier about Acocella interviewing Ratmansky as part of the New Yorker festival. I was extremely sick that weekend and unable to attend, but Evan was there; here is her report. And here is reportage from Lori Ortiz on Explore Dance.

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Morphoses Free Dress Rehearsal

 

For New Yorkers, Christopher Wheeldon is holding a free, open-to-the-public dress rehearsal to be followed by a little talk (just like he did last year) on Sunday, October 5th at 12 noon at City Center (where Morphoses is performing). You need a ticket, which you can pick up starting at 11:00 a.m. that day. Doors will open at 11:30. Tickets are given out on a first-come, first-serve basis, and are limited to 4 per person. Last year I think this sold out at the speed of light, so if you’re gonna go, get there early!

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Sorry!

Blogging will resume as soon as a Wednesday deadline passes, I promise!

In the meantime, here are a few things to keep you entertained:

1) Christopher Wheeldon (choreographer and artistic director of Morphoses — upcoming next month at City Center) talks ballet and creativity on Big Think here, here, and here; general Wheeldon link here. (Also, read some Morphoses dancer and choreographer blogs here);

2) check out Cedar Lake Contemporary Ballet‘s Project 52, a year-long documentary on the company in weekly video installments;

3) Claudia La Rocco discusses the new Broadway musical Fela!;

4) a discussion I found interesting about whether J.D. Salinger’s Catcher in the Rye should still be required reading for high schoolers, or whether it no longer has adequate “currency” so as to resonate with young people today, here, here, and here;

and

5) if you’re interested in the writing life, guest blogger Joshua Henkin, author of Matrimony, turned The Elegant Variation into a crash course on creative writing last week. His entries begin here.

Okay, wish me luck!

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Exhausted!

I know I will be bored out of my mind come August, but right now with ABT and NYCB in season, the Judson Movement Research Festival underway, Alvin Ailey’s decision to have a week at Brooklyn Academy of Music in celebration of their 50th anniversary year, and the start of So You Think You Can Dance, I’m throughly exhausted! Why does everything have to happen at once?

After the fiasco of Tuesday afternoon, I spent a wonderful night at NYCBallet — one of the best I’ve had. The program was “Here and Now” and centered on the newest works on the company’s rep, a kind of celebration of the 21st Century in ballet thus far. My main reason for going was the premier of a new ballet by Alexei Ratmansky, but the whole evening was magical, likely in part because I sat up front, very close to the stage, my favorite little perch 🙂

I really liked the new Ratmansky, titled “Concerto DSCH,” and set to music by Russian composer Dmitri Shostakovich, whose scores Ratmansky often uses. To be honest, I wish I could see a new work, especially an abstract one, a few times before writing about it, because, as I realized upon re-viewing “Oltremare” here and “Unfold” at Alvin Ailey, you miss so much the first time around just trying to take it all in. You need repeated viewings to get things right and to get a fuller sense of the work. That’s why film critics see the films they review three, four, and five times. But that’s not possible with dance because each performance is so expensive to produce. Anyway, as I feel like I should always say upon seeing a new piece, these are my first impressions but they may well change completely or become more nuanced on repeated viewings.

The musical score Ratmansky used here was very upbeat and lively and, made in 1957 for Shostakovich’s young son, Maxim, “displays the composer’s optimist energy after the repressions of the Stalinist era,” as the program notes say. The optimism and lightness was very evident, as there didn’t seem to be a downbeat turn the whole way through — either in the dance or the music. The dancers are all dressed in what appear to be 19th Century-style bathing suits, and they kind of frolic with each other on what I imagine to be a beach. There’s a corps who kind of chooses a main dancer to follow, cutely mimicking his or her every move. One threesome — danced by the always brimming over with virtuosity Ashley Bouder, one of my NYCB favorites Joaquin De Luz (one of the few who manages to combine spectacular athleticism with artistry), and the charismatic Gonzalo Garcia — is particularly playful as the dancers literally bounce off of each other, each lifting and tossing one another — including Ashley who did quite well getting the much larger and muscly Garcia off the ground. Soon, a slightly softer, slower section ensues, including a sweet duet by the in-love Wendy Whelan and Benjamin Millepied. The threesome return, each trying to outdo the other in a competition-like series of bravura, jump- and turn-heavy solos. And, after another couple of duets by the lovers, the whole thing, all characters included, comes to a happy climax, ending with this crazy, hilarious, almost statue-like lift by the threesome at the front of the stage, Joaquin on top of the other two, holding a finger up in the air, as if to say either “wait a minute” or, as Philip interpreted, “I’m number one.” In all, the ballet’s not tremendously profound but it is great fun and brings home how exciting sheer kinetic energy and virtuosity can be. It kind of reminded me of Jorma Elo’s “Slice to Sharp” made on the company earlier, but with more of a story-line. I definitely want to see it again.

Also on the program was Peter Martins’s “River of Light,” 10 years old and the oldest of these ballets, which I’d never seen before. I found it fantastically weird, with three pairs of dancers, each pair comprised of one male one female, all in simple solid-colored unitards, one couple in red, one in white, and one in black. The dancers made various geometric-looking shapes with each other, performing very difficult-looking lifts (one of the dancers fell at one point, but didn’t seem to be hurt). The dancers put so much energy into the piece, regardless of the geometric focus, there was a kind of passionate abandon to it as well. The score was composed by Charles Wuorinen (who was the youngest composer to have won the Pulitzer), and Martins choreographed the ballet for him 10 years ago as a 60th birthday present. Wuorinen returned this year, now his 70th birthday, to conduct the piece, which was really cool. Sweet tribute.

 

I realized throughout the night I am really beginning to like Sterling Hyltin. She was in the Martins as well as Wheeldon’s “Rococo Variations,” which I’d seen before and wrote about earlier, here. Sitting so up close you can really focus on the dancers, and I realized how perfect her form always is. Even if her back leg isn’t up as high in an arabesque as the other dancer who often shared the stage with her Tuesday night (Sara Mearns), her lines are perfectly clear, and she has so much energy combined with fluidity. Her arms are so graceful. It’s not always about who can lift their leg the highest. And her feet are really beautiful — I forgot what it’s called (but know it has a name; one of my teachers told me), but she has turned-out ankles that give her legs so much gorgeous shaping. What is that called?…

Anyway, I also appreciated this time around the intricate patterned footwork in “Rococo Variations,” which I think I’d overlooked the first time I saw it. It’s a sweet ballet for two couples but it has a lot of variation in the steps that is, as the woman sitting next to me remarked, dizzyingly engrossing.

Finally, Oltremare, which premiered last season and which I wrote about here grew on me. This modern-style ballet contains some of the most difficult lifts I think I’ve ever seen, and the dancers perform them brilliantly. And talk about raw emotion and angst. The dancers perfectly convey the experience of leaving one’s country and becoming an immigrant in another. It makes me think of the beginning of Middlesex, when all the main characters are boarding the ship to flee the burning of Smyrna and come to the new world, with all of the horror of what they’d just experienced, sadness and anger at being displaced, and fear and trepidation for what the future will bring. I still think Oltremare is a tiny bit too one-note, and the mid-section still stood out to me as awkward and somewhat cartoonish where they’re all folk dancing, but so fast and furiously that it looks like they’re on Speed. But I also realized on this viewing that Bigonzetti may have wanted it this way; that he was trying to convey that they’re all trying so very hard to keep their pasts, their culture, that they’re trying so hard to be happy about this new life, that they’re on overdrive. I liked Maria Kowroski much better this time. I love the way she used her legs like tentacles to keep her partner at bay. Those legs never end — she’s like a spider!

 

And last night I went to see Alvin Ailey at BAM. They’re not normally in season — and it was really odd seeing them in the midst of all the ballets! — but they’re having a special week in Brooklyn in honor of their 50th Anniversary celebrations going on all throughout the year.

 

I’d seen all the works on the program before: Twyla Tharp’s very 80’s hugely energetic, crazy lift-heavy “Golden Section”; Robert Battle’s beautifully haunting, otherworldly “Unfold” which, as I said, really grew on me even more (here’s a short video excerpt); Camille A. Brown’s cute, humorous “The Groove to Nobody’s Business” which makes me giggle (and whose first part reminds me of Fat Albert) more each time I see it; and of course the classic “Revelations” which I can’t count how many times I’ve seen but seem to see something new every time.

 

I also love listening to the audience react, and, as I said in a comment on my previous post about audience interactions, the audience here was vocal throughout the entire thing. They clapped and shouted “yeah!” not only during moments when dancers performed an amazing feat — like the jetes in Sinner Man and Alicia Graf’s beautiful turning develope in Fix Me Jesus — but just at the start of a section with which they were familiar, when the dancers at times hadn’t even appeared on stage yet. They were just cheering because they knew what was coming and had seen it before and been moved. The audience overall seemed so into the dancing. They cheered and hooted wildly after every piece and gave a standing ovation at the end. The company is only in NY through the end of the week, so if you’re here and want to see this or the other program — which includes a revival of “Masekela Language,” Mr. Ailey’s work about apartheid, go here for tickets. Or, for more info about the dances, call 212-514-0010 and press the appropriate buttons.

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New Wheeldon Pretty But Not Profound

 

So last night was the premiere of the newest ballet by Christopher Wheeldon at New York City Ballet, the last he’ll choreograph for the company in his role as resident choreographer. Named ROCOCO VARIATIONS, because it was choreographed to Tchiakovsky’s music of the same name, it was relatively short and minimal, involving a total of four dancers — two male / female couples. Overall, my first impressions are that it was sweet and pretty, but nothing that really blew me away. The curtain opened to a bare stage, no sets. First one couple emerged, then another, the two women dressed in really lovely bronze-colored strapless dresses, the flowing skirts A-level and knee-length. They resembled a cross between ballgowns and a long tulle ballet tutu, and at first I thought it was going to be reminiscent of a Balanchine ballroom ballet, but I was wrong; it was pretty much straight ballet pas de deux. The men wore brown tights and white billowing tops covered by 19th Century-esque beige vests. The music was absolutely beautiful, it goes without saying, and Wheeldon’s very musical; the steps “looked like” the music.

I appreciated a few moments of original partnering and movement: at one point, when all four are onstage, the women stand next to each other and extend their arms toward each other, and the men walk around them and underneath their arms, on the way through grabbing each other and doing a short, jaunty little male -on- male dance. Cute! There was also a nice, evocative shape made by one couple — Sterling Hyltin and Giovanni Villalobos — when Giovanni lunged deeply toward her and she leaned toward him on one toe, her back leg in an arabesque. Where normally the ballerina would keep her head up to maintain her balance and smile brightly at her partner’s face, here she covered his hands with hers and let her head fall all the way underneath their locked hands. It looked like she was really deferring to him, really trusting him, and it was original. Near the end, Adrian Danchig-Waring, the other man, bent down, and his ballerina Sara Mearns, lay on his back, her body straight, almost like a log, and he carried her off that way, bent-backed, as if now bearing a weight.

I was really mesmerized by Mearns and Danchig-Waring. Adrian’s arms were so fluid, they were like water. And both were very expressive with their upper bodies; they had beautiful port de bras (arm movements) culminating with intricate, delicate shaping of the wrists.

I’ll see the ballet again, but, on first sighting, I found the choreography pretty and lyrical, with points of originality, but nothing tremendously profound. My thoughts are that Wheeldon is petering out a bit, wanting to focus now on his own company, Morphoses.

The rest of the evening consisted of Balanchine’s sweetly Romantic “Divertimento from ‘Le Baiser de la Fee'” — which translates to “The Fairy’s Kiss” and is based on a Hans Christian Anderson tale; Peter Martins’s short tribute to China, “The Chairman Dances,” likely in honor of the Chinese New Year (Happy Chinese New Year everyone!); and Balanchine’s fun, raucous “Stars and Stripes,” a patriotic tribute to his adopted country, choreographed in honor of NYC mayor, Fiorella LaGuardia, to iconic Philip Sousa marching music.

I then came home and watched Randy Jackson’s “America’s Best Dance Crew,” on MTV, which I’d taped. I thought it was a lot of fun — very different from the other dance TV shows. For people who didn’t see it, it’s all dancing — no singing, unlike “Dance War” and the groups have been working together for some time, so they’re familiar with each other and know what they’re doing. It appears that the judges give the groups a different song to choreograph to and they have to come up with something original in a short period of time. The crews with the two lowest scores have a dance-off in the end. But the dancing is really only hip hop with some breaking thrown in, so there isn’t a variety of styles, unlike SYTYCD. My favorite crew overall thus far is “Live in Color,” though I’m not in love with the name — too much like “Living Colour,” whose lead singer the lead dancer actually kind of resembles, with the mohawk (though the dancer’s hair is shorter than the singer’s was). I loved how that guy threw in those fouettes at the end (which one of the judges called “art spins” 🙂 ) Anyway, I’m expecting to write more about the show on my Huffington Post blog column, when it’s up (I’m thinking it got a bit delayed by Super Tuesday). If it’s not up soon, I’ll write more about the shows here.

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Night of Premieres

Just a reminder, tonight Randy Jackson’s new reality TV dance show, “America’s Best Dance Crew,” premieres on MTV, 10 p.m. ET (although it looks like it’ll be rebroadcast a bunch of times). Mario Lopez from “Dancing With the Stars” co-hosts and Shane Sparks from “So You Think You Can Dance” is one of the three judges. In this show, whose orientation is mainly toward hip hop, the competition is among several dance teams. But these teams are already formed and have been working together for some time, so it’s not another “Dance War.” For more info go here.

Tonight’s also the premiere of — don’t laugh, I’m honestly kinda excited to see it 🙂 — “Lipstick Jungle,” starring Brooke Shields and based on Candace Bushnell’s book of the same name. That’s on NBC also at 10 p.m. ET.

And finally, if you’re in New York, tonight is the premiere of the last ballet Christopher Wheeldon will choreograph for the New York City Ballet in his job as resident choreographer of that company. After this season he will leave his post (possibly to be replaced by the Bolshoi’s Alexei Ratmansky), to concentrate on his own company, Morphoses. That’s at the State Theater at 8 p.m.

Happy night!

Oh, and also, speaking of ballet, look at these gorgeous pictures by Patricio Melo of Ballet de Santiago’s “Swan Lake”! Wow!

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Jock!

I saw a documentary last night at New York City Ballet’s State Theater that I really really loved. AND it’s going to air on PBS on April 8th, so everyone can see it! Don’t worry, I will definitely be reminding you all closer to April 🙂 It’s called WATER FLOWING TOGETHER and is about the life of recently retired and widely beloved New York City Ballet dancer Jock Soto (pictured above after the showing speaking with photographer / filmmaker Gwendolen Cates — whom I’m told is related to Phoebe, though I don’t know if it’s true — and a moderator whose name I didn’t get).

There was some real hype over this, and I’m always ready to pounce in such instances, but in this case the hype was deserved. Although the film gets off to a slow start, it quickly gains momentum. I think what makes it so engaging is Soto’s interesting background and wonderful personality. He’s part Navajo, part Puerto Rican, and he grew up on a reservation in New Mexico, before moving to Phoenix (!) for ballet school. The film’s title is the name of his mother’s clan. There’s some great footage of the West, and my favorite parts of the film are (in addition to clips of his rehearsing Christopher Wheeldon’s tear-jerking duet “After the Rain” with the equally engaging Wendy Whelan, who is interviewed as well) those about his Native-American roots. (This could be partly because I have a Native American great-grandmother — Blackfoot to be exact — though I know next to nothing about her since, sadly, she’s been all but erased from my family history). Anyway, Jock’s mother was an artist and used to make Katchina dolls (how I miss Arizona…) and ceramic bowls, and he and his brother used to make and sell Indian Fry Bread (how I SO miss Arizona…) when they were kids. After he retired from NYCB in 2005 he went to culinary school and he and his partner, professional chef Luis Fuentes, have just begun a catering business, so I guess those foodie roots were always there!

Another thing that struck me: Jock’s homosexuality has always been accepted by his mother’s side of the family. American Indian culture, she says, holds homosexuals in high esteem because of their difference. (His paternal Latin side: not so accepting; aunts and grandmas keep asking when he’s gonna get married and, because his father hasn’t said anything, he feels uncomfortable revealing his sexuality to them). But interestingly, Indian society is also matriarchal. So, where women are valued, so are gay men.

 

And, like his longtime partner Wendy Whelan, Jock has such a sweetly endearing personality and a great sense of humor. He laughs easily at himself. Upon entering his apartment (which he openly tells you is a typical NYC dancer shoebox that he nevertheless pays $1,850 for) there’s a sign that reads, “No liquor served to Indians after 6:00 p.m.” Later, while preparing for a performance, he says, “as I put on my makeup and my costume and do my hair, I think, what a strange occupation for a 40-year-old man,” and at another point, trying hard to conceal his fear of and heartache about permanently leaving the stage says, “well, June 19, 2005 will be the last time I’ll ever have to dress in drag.” At one point, he actually lets loose and cries over his eternally pained body and his pending retirement. The scene makes him human and vulnerable and it really drives home that it must be so awful for a dancer to have to leave what he’s lived his entire life for at such a young age.

Anyway, it’s an excellent film and I left out a lot: his meeting and befriending Andy Warhol (I wish Cates had actually gone into a bit more detail on this); his ruminations on his coming to NY at only age 14, living without his family and dropping out of school in the 7th grade; and a lot of amazing dancing, including some great footage of him flying all over stage with his young little sprightly teenage body! Please do watch it on PBS in April, though they have to chop a good twenty minutes off for TV, which seriously frightens me since PBS seems to have a knack for making everything they show as bland as possible. If they cut any of the parts I just mentioned, there will be hell to pay!

It already seems this film is a slightly different version than that others have seen. In her lengthy review, Tobi Tobias mentions several classroom scenes where he’s teaching students at the School of American Ballet (from which aspiring NYCB dancers must graduate), which seemed to be missing from last night’s version. And smartly so, I think: “Classical ballet being the last bastion of chivalry in our disheveled era, Soto works continually to encourage a worshipful attitude in the gentlemen toward their ladies.” Considered the quintessential “manly” dancer though he may be, something about that line kind of makes me want to vomit.

Sometimes it can start to feel a bit stiflingly cliquish inside the State Theater if I’m there for too long, but I had a nice time hanging out before and after with Philip and Ariel, whose reports are here and here.

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My First Pina Bausch Experience, Dance On Camera, and Writing (Slightly) Negative Reviews

Just quickly before I go out to meet Ariel (who’s now living in NY :D), here’s my review of “Rhythm of Love” on Explore Dance. Basically the same as what I said here on my blog, but more critical. I sometimes feel badly being critical (especially when reviewing ‘small people’ — biggies like Christopher Wheeldon and Jerome Bel can handle it), but I tried to be constructive and respectful.

Also, for people in New York, the Dance On Camera Festival is currently underway at the Walter Reade Theater in Lincoln Center. A lot of the films are experimental, and most programs have a combination of shorts with small documentaries. On opening night I saw Program 2, which included, most excitingly for me, a 45-minute documentary about (in)famous (depending on your perspective) German choreographer Pina Bausch. This was my first Bausch experience and I definitely can see what people both love and hate about her. Funny because, according to the critics, she doesn’t seem to talk much about her work, so to big Bausch fans the fact that she was actually talking was the draw. To me, though, I wanted her to shut up so I could see more of the excerpts of her work the film provided! In one excerpted piece, women wearing very flimsy nightgowns were violently thrasing their bodies about from the waist down, their hair flying about wildly. It was both beautiful and disturbing. In another, one woman screamingly commanded another woman to smile, the woman being yelled at tried but her smile wasn’t big enough to please the first woman, so woman #1 violently dunked the second woman’s head into a bucket of water several times. You can hear the audience’s upset. In another excerpt, a man reaches down under a woman’s dress and lifts her up, seemingly by the crotch. In its awkwardness, it is both unsettling and comical. If you saw the film “Talk To Her” by Pedro Almodovar, her choreography is performed at the very beginning, but from what I saw on Wednesday, that seems to be a very watered-down version of her work.

Anyway, I am now dying to see her dance group (Tanztheater Wuppertal), if they ever make it to NY. Art had his first Bausch experience this year as well, live at UCLA, and he seems as smitten as I! Here’s dance writer Eva Yaa Asantewaa’s take on the Bausch doc and another short in Program 2, and here is a post on the same by Anna Brady Nuse (who is a dance filmmaker). For a good, detailed break-down of the whole festival, visit Anna’s blog post here.

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Happy Happy Night: Feisty New Dance By Peter Martins and Promising New Ballet Movie!

I really had a nice time last night at New York City Ballet‘s opening night gala program, celebrating the start of their winter season. The highlights for me were the two world premieres — one of a new ballet, by NYCB artistic director, Peter Martins, the other a brief but fabulous excerpt from a new movie-in-the-making of Jerome Robbins‘s jazzy cool ballet, “N.Y. Export: Opus Jazz.” Rather than go in chronological order of the program, I’ll start with the highlights.

I’ve seen a lot of new ballets lately, and this one by Martins has definitely been one of my favorites. Titled “Grazioso,” it’s set to a score by Mikhail Glinka from the operas “Ruslan and Ludmilla” and “A Life For the Tsar.” I don’t know these operas, but the handy dandy Wikipedia tells me the first is based on a Pushkin poem with a complicated narrative, but at one point depicts three would-be suitors vying for Ludmilla’s hand in marriage. I assume this is the part Martins had set his ballet to, as that’s what I perceived “Grazioso” to be about.

And what a mad fun sexy competition it was! Everyone who knows me knows this is exactly the kind of thing I go for 🙂 : men trying to outdance each other with bravado galore. But there weren’t only high, twisty jumps and sailing-across-the-stage-in-a-splits leaps, Martins filled his male dancers’ variations with lots of very intricate, fast, complex footwork that required great precision and agility. And of course these men had that in spades. They were: Andrew Veyette, recently promoted to soloist, Daniel Ulbricht, who is known for his virtuosity and wowed audiences last season with his Mercutio in Martins’ “Romeo + Juliet,” and Gonzalo Garcia, a recent NYCB transplant from San Francisco Ballet, who I find to be very Rasta Thomas-esque. The sassy, daring, very athletic Ashley Bouder, whom I am growing to love more and more each time I see, danced Ludmilla.

One of the reasons I love Ashley is that she just throws herself into everything she does with such wild, intense abandon; she’s very much a risk-taker, which is what Balanchine wanted of his dancers. And, she’s a cute actor to boot. If I was a guy, though, I’d be very intimidated partnering her. She doesn’t really wait for the guy to be ready to go into a lift, she just throws herself up and he’d better be there to take her the rest of the way or else! That’s the way it should be of course — do your own thing and let the man figure out how to support you 😀

As far as the choreography: there was some cute partnering — at one point each man takes turns promenading Ashley around slowly and delicately, trying his best to be the most chivalrous. Then she takes off running, fluttering around all three men in an outer circle, like a Firebird, each one taking her hand and doing a little running lift with her before she rejects him and goes on to the next guy. Gonzalo, probably the best actor of the guys, feigned a stunned, dejected look when she threw off his hand and went into a lift with Daniel. Upon her rejection of him, Daniel simply shrugged and prepared for some more crazy bravura turns. Andrew looked thoroughly befuddled by her behavior, in a cute way of course! I liked these duets better than Martins’s “Romeo + Juliet” pas de deux, but I still think where Martins really excels choreography-wise is in the solo dancing, particularly with the men. As I said, some brilliant fast, fun, intricately-patterned footwork that made for a dazzling competition for Ludmilla’s flighty little hand.

The only thing I didn’t get was the costumes. Ashley was wearing this cute A-line cut, slightly puffed shoulder-sleeved dress with an apron-like covering. She looked like a chambermaid. The guys were wearing these 70s-style black tops that looked like they were made out of stretchy lycra with low-cut V necks lined with florescent colors — a different shade for each man. She looked like she belonged in a Dickens novel, they in Studio 54.

Second highlight was the movie-in-the-making adaptation of Jerome Robbins’s “N.Y. Export: Opus Jazz.” (above image is taken from the film’s website). Craig Hall is a natural film actor, let me tell you! He’s extremely photogenic and he has the subtle acting skills required for on-screen close-ups. They only showed a very brief excerpt but I think this is going to be fabulous when finished. They filmed it in what looks to be a run-down area of New Jersey, overlooking the Hudson River toward Manhattan. There’s a sole train track running through a patch of dead grass surrounded by abandoned buildings, and the filmed piece begins with Craig standing right in the middle of the tracks, a cocky, death-defying look on his face. Pretty Rachel Rutherford approaches him from behind, they perform a series of lifts, she seemingly trying to get him both off of the dangerous tracks and to love her. At the end, he walks away and she looks forelorn.

They were wearing regular, street clothes, I think just jeans and t-shirts. So, the filmmakers are taking the Robbins out of its 50s-era creation and placing it in the present to show how timeless Robbins — and ballet — really are.

And what I really love is that the filmmakers shot the pas de deux from various angles, some from high above, so you’re looking down on the would-be lovers at the different shapes their two bodies are making. It’s so much more interesting than seeing it straight on, from floor level, in the theater. This is what film can do for dance, I believe, really enhance the viewing and interpretive experience by showing different shapes and different viewpoints based on the angle of the camera and the distance of its gaze. I can’t wait for the film in whole to come out. The dancers who introduced it, Ellen Bar and Sean Suozzi, mentioned that it had just won an award, though I didn’t get the name of the festival.

So, the rest of the evening: they began with the Rose Adagio from “Sleeping Beauty,” Beauty being danced with the sweet, charming Megan Fairchild. This is the part where she is courted by four princes, who each take her around in a promenade, then let go of her hand while she performs those very difficult one-footed balances on her own. The new Martins ballet kind of had echoes of that now that I think of it. They also performed “Liturgy,” another Christopher Wheeldon Rorschach ballet. NYCB stars Wendy Whelan and Albert Evans (pictured at the top of this post, on the program’s cover) did the physically demanding, at times very beautiful and, as the name implies, beatific, pas de deux. I think I’m learning to not try to “get” Wheeldon — at least not his pas de deux — but just to appreciate Wendy’s mind-bogglingly, seemingly skeleton-less body and the enchanting, spidery shapes she makes with it. At intermission, I saw Philip and he exclaimed, “wasn’t Liturgy fantastic!” Taunting me! They also did a small excerpt from Balanchine’s “Western Symphony” a cutely raucous ballet celebrating the American West, replete with saloon girls, led by dazzling Maria Kowroski, and cowboys, led by Damian Woetzel. I’d seen him in a Fall For Dance Robbins piece several weeks ago and was underwhelmed by his performance then, thinking he didn’t give it his all. But, happily, he was back in full force last night, dancing and acting the rowdy, spur-kicking cowboy perfectly. Damian really is such a cutie.

They ended with a little filmed tribute to Lincoln Kirstein, this year being the centennial of his birth, and then on to the party, which I’m too poor to attend.

But I did see the set-up. Here’s where I stood sipping a glass of wine at pre-performance cocktail hour, apparently across the room from Sandi. I spied Kristin, and was about to say hello when interrupted by a bartender asking for my order. After I was finished, Kristin was nowhere to be found. There was no red carpet bearing famous people, so I guess there wasn’t much for her to film this time, as there had been for Martins’s “Romeo + Juliet” premiere. As I was leaving, I did see David Michalek waiting for the party to begin, which made me wonder if Candace Bushnell was there… the connection being of course celebrated artists married to star dancers, not that Michalek is venturing into the world of social satire / literary chick-lit 😀

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Am I Too Hard on Contemporary Choreographers?

I the weekend largely looking at art. On Friday night, my friend Dee and I went to the Whitney’s Kara Walker exhibit, “My Complement, My Enemy, My Oppressor, My Love,” about slavery and the Ante-Bellum South, which was excellent, and something everyone who has a chance should see. And the night before, my friend Alyssa invited me an opening of Shinique Smith’s show, “All Purpose,” at the Moti Hasson gallery in Chelsea.

This piece is titled “Thank You, Come Again.” I turned off my flash, because I’m always afraid it’s going to hurt the artwork, so the pics are a bit blurry, but this one’s comprised of several articles of clothing, all clumped together and affixed to the wall, a few scraggly threads trailing from the bottom looking to me almost like blood or tears, and a pile of socks with a sole red rose in the center beneath the wall hanging, on the floor.

Smith basically assembles her artwork from used / found objects, which reminded me of John Jasperse. Alyssa, who’s an Art history grad student specializing in African, told me using found objects rather than buying new is big among African artists right now because it symbolizes a rebellion against colonialism, globalization and the cultural imperialism of the West. (Smith is from Baltimore, but apparently is associated with African artists.)

I thought this one was charming. (Unfortunately, the gallery didn’t have the names of the artwork in its press release or on its website, so I don’t know all the names of the pieces). To me this looks like an animal, like a donkey, and I found the “head” and “ears” sweet because they’re made of a satiny fabric and tulle respectively, making me think of dance of course. Alyssa thought it looked “flamenco.” But the animal, who is carrying several adorable stuffed animals on its shoulders, appears to be carrying heavy bags on its side as well, so it looks a bit overburdened though not downtrodden.I liked this one because it made me think of Ian McEwan‘s novel “Enduring Love.” There was a rope attaching the crate to a pole in the ceiling, so it resembled a hot air balloon, and that book opens with a horrifying hot air balloon ride gone heinously wrong. The doe at the bottom is nostalgic to me, maybe because it looks like something my grandparents would always keep in a glass cabinet in their living room.

This one, the ‘star’ piece, is called “Glutton.” It was made of gilded cushions, with a red velvet blanket spilling out underneath. Alyssa and her friends thought it looked like a Buddha, which I guess it does, but is Buddha associated with gluttony? I found it beautiful but somewhat hideous at the same time; like incredible wealth and how it can be so striking but can also pervert or uglify.

Alyssa in foreground with friends Alison and Kim (who is an artist in Connecticut) in back. We joked about how Alyssa is becoming the “Where’s Waldo” of my blog 🙂 It was a very well-attended opening.

Anyway, I really enjoyed it, just walking around sipping Vodka (compliments of the exhibit’s sponsor), chatting with friends, and observing, investigating the art, trying to figure out how it was assembled, what materials it was made of, what all of the component objects were, what the work as a whole meant, symbolized, or evoked for me. The whole exhibit had kind of an air of nostalgia to me and made me a bit sad, sweet as the sculptures or wall figures were.

But it made me think about Jasperse too. I liked a lot of Smith’s pieces, but nothing really blew me away the way Jasperse’s clothes hanger sculpture / set did, the same way that none of his choreographic uses of found objects knocked me out like the hangers. And yet overall I still really enjoyed the Smith exhibit. But I was hard on Jasperse, coming away from the performance generally more disappointed. And I wonder why that is… if it’s that I expect more from dance (or something different anyway), if it’s that I spend more time with a dance performance, or more money on it (assuming I’m not buying the artwork anyway). Maybe it’s that I was physically closer to the art, could investigate it more thoroughly and take my time with it, or maybe it’s just that the drink and friendly chatter added to my enjoyment? … Anyway, after this exhibit, I felt like I shouldn’t have been as hard on Jasperse.

Another interesting discussion ensued amongst us ladies: whether you need to know something about the artwork in order to appreciate it or whether a work of art should stand entirely on its own. Funny to me because Jolene and I had just had a similar discussion on her blog (see comments here) regarding the two new abstract ballets ABT just put on. Alison said she didn’t necessarily need to know very much about a work, but titles and little notes did help. Sometimes. For example, the title in the top piece, “Thank You, Come Again,” which the artist’s note says is made from “ex-boyfriend’s clothes,” made her realize the pile of socks wasn’t just a mound of dirty underwear sitting on the floor for no purpose, they were remnants of the subject’s ex and they illustrated her sorrow and emptiness, a feeling made all the more powerful by the rose in the middle.

But, Alison added, Mark Rothko (whose art at least in his later years was extremely abstract, usually consisting of a sole geometric shape or different colored horizontal lines on a canvas) could give detailed names to all of his paintings until he was blue in the face and she would still see only abstract shapes.

I remember from the Kara Walker exhibit a drawing of an old white man, shirtless and with saggy male breasts, who was kind of breast-feeding a black baby. But he didn’t look so happy about it; rather, he tried to shield his rather disgusted expression from the baby’s mother. The image was striking and I kind of understood the racial aspect, but it meant so much more when I read in the curator’s explanation that the white man was famous abolitionist John Brown. So Walker is commenting upon the futility of white-led abolitionism and questioning the patriarchal reverence with which this man is held.

Another silhouette appeared to me, on first look, like a woman was jumping up excitedly, kicking her heels in the air, doing a little happy dance. But it also looked like her wrist was falling off and there was a spill on the ground below her that looked like a big mess. After reading the curator’s words I realized it was a pool of blood; she’d slit her wrist, and was dancing in excitement because by committing suicide, she’d freed herself and performed her own small role in abolishing slavery by depriving it of property.

Even just the silhouettes themselves: I hadn’t realized this little decorative art form was a fixture of, first aristocratic, then haute-bourgeois households, the poser usually being a delicate white woman; in fact, portraiture technique in the 1800s became a way of training “good ladies.” So, by painting most of her subjects in this way, Walker was turning an upper-class white art form on its head. The curator’s notes also say that the silhouette mimics the reductiveness of stereotypes, which I thought of as I was viewing the exhibit. But not knowing the history of silhouettes, I would have missed out on the class issue.

Anyway, sorry this post is all over the place. I’m starting to blab so am going to go to bed now. I also just wanted to point out that there’s a great conversation taking place on Apollinaire’s blog regarding dance-makers’ obligations to their audiences. Go here to take part. The dance blogosphere is becoming fun!